Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. I'm just holding onto them for a little bit. Worry not; I'll give them back.
Moving right along. Bit longer this time. ;)
Chapter 4- Change of Momentum
Lucius Malfoy was seething.
This had been his idea, after all. He'd made a hard sell to the Dark Lord to try this again. It would have worked, after all these years; he was sure of it. The boy had never gotten over his foolish need to run blindly into dangerous situations.
And after all the gold I've poured into the Ministry's coffers, he thought irritably. Of course the blundering fools had been the ones to ruin everything.
Lucius looked around at the gloomy and dust covered furniture of the little office with distaste. The sooner he could get out of here, the better. But the Dark Lord's instructions were clear, and he was in absolutely no position to argue. He sat up a little straighter as he heard approaching footsteps.
"Well, Father, you should be feeling awfully smug about now." Draco Malfoy smiled thinly. "Your scheme couldn't have gone more smoothly if the Dark Lord had planned it himself."
Lucius swore viciously under his breath as his son came to the door of the office and leaned casually against the jamb. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, boy."
"Oh, now really, Father. Of course it does." Draco straightened and walked into the room, carelessly flicking dust off his shoulder where it had touched the doorway. He leaned over the desk toward his father. "Now, how are you going to get yourself out of this one?" He said softly.
"What do you want, Draco? I'm rather preoccupied, at the moment." Lucius put on an air of boredom as his mind raced with possible solutions.
The Dark Lord was long gone, of course. He'd known the second he'd breached Potter's mind that someone else had been watching. And he'd left Lucius and the other Death Eaters here at the orphanage to deal with the impending fallout.
"You've caused me an annoyance today, Malfoy." Lucius had still been twitching from the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, but the coldness of the Dark Lord's voice had come across clearly. "I shall deal with you later. For now, you will create a…diversion, which will allow me to find a suitable place to take up headquarters. I shall know if you have not dealt with them. Your 'friends' at the Ministry had better not be a problem after today."
I shall deal with you later. It was only a result of years of experience that Lucius could stop himself from shuddering with fear now, as he remembered the Dark Lord's words. He looked up at his son, who was currently regarding him with a most infuriating smugness. "I'm not in the mood for your cheek, son. Unless you've something useful to contribute…" Lucius gestured to the door.
Draco scoffed as he skirted the desk and rested a hip against it. "You think I'd help you in any way?" He leaned in close to his father. "After everything you've done, after what you did to my mother, I've half a mind to save the Dark Lord the trouble and kill you, myself."
Lucius scowled. "We both know that if you had the nerve, dear boy, you'd have tried it long ago. And we both know that if you could, you'd be a much better Death Eater." He stood. "Get out of my sight."
Draco straightened. "Don't worry, Father. I wouldn't dream of sticking around for this show. They'll be here soon, and he'll kill you if you don't deal with them. And that's what I'd pay money- good money- to witness." He swept from the room, robes billowing.
But he didn't leave, as he'd said. Draco was calm and calculating as he Disillusioned himself.
-==-==-==-==-
Ron sat across the table in Interview #3 at on the lower level of the Ministry and glared mutinously at Dawlish, Scrimgeour's right hand man.
"You don't know anything. And I don't know what you're talking about."
"Mr. Weasley, if you don't give me the information I need, then I'm afraid I'll have to keep you here until you do," Dawlish told him. "I can assure you, I have nothing but time. Now. Who is helping you get information from the Ministry, and what more have you found out?"
Ron only ignored the question as he tapped his foot against the cold metal legs of the table. "You might want to go get some coffee or something, then." Ron leaned back in his seat, stretched out his legs. "It's going to be a long day."
-==-==-==-==-
Hermione paced anxiously, wringing her hands. The Aurors that had met them in the Atrium had escorted her to this room, empty except for a cold chair and smooth metal table, at least twenty minutes ago, and she'd been by herself the whole time, long enough for her to check and be sure that there wasn't a way for her to escape. Without her wand, it was impossible.
What on earth was going on? Where was Harry; where was Ron?
And how much longer could she maintain her sanity not knowing anything?
She looked up as the door finally opened. When she saw who it was, she nearly collapsed with relief. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Tonks shook her head subtly, indicating that they were likely being watched. Hermione stayed silent, but her eyes were pleading.
"Ms. - Granger, is it?" Tonks feigned. "Why did you come here today? Who are you looking for?"
"I only came with my friend to- to meet Harry- erm, Harry Potter; he came to speak with the Minister, and we were just going to meet him, when he was finished. Do you- er- do you know where he is?" Hermione tried to keep the desperate note out of her voice.
Tonks wished she could say something to the younger woman to reassure her that Harry was indeed alright, but her voice was impassive.
"Yes, Mr. Potter made quite a fuss today, upstairs, with the Minister," she commented as she walked round the table toward Hermione. "Perhaps you could tell me how he found out so soon that we'd obtained information about the muggle orphanage. Who here in the Ministry is spying for the three of you?" Tonks moved close to Hermione, ostensibly to scrutinize the young woman's face.
If anyone was watching, she felt confident that they wouldn't have noticed the pass.
As she backed up, Hermione felt the weight of something light and long in the pockets of her robes and her heart raced as she looked at the older woman. Before she could process it, the door opened again, and Dawlish came in, looking agitated and more than a little frustrated.
"Tonks, what are you doing in this room? You aren't assigned to this case. You're to go with the others on the new assignment." He regarded her suspiciously.
"You're right, of course, Dawlish. I must've been confused. I'll just get out of your way," Tonks said, and with a meaningful glance at Hermione, she moved past him and headed out of the room, too quickly for him to stop her.
Dawlish didn't take the time to worry about Tonks as he turned to Hermione.
Her heart thumped, but Hermione's hand was steady as it went to the pocket of her robes.
-==-==-==-==-
Tonks waited five minutes before doubling back towards the interrogation rooms.
She went back into Interview #2, and found Dawlish sitting at the table, softly tapping his fingers on the cool metal surface. He was very much alone.
"Where's the girl?" she asked him.
"What girl?" Dawlish looked up at Tonks through unfocused eyes. "Did those cauldron reports come in yet?"
Tonks raised her eyebrows as she headed back out of the room. Good luck, Hermione, she thought with a chuckle and a welling of pride.
The girl had always been handy with a Confundus charm.
-==-==-==-==-
Ron waited in Interview #3, where Dawlish had left him a bit ago.
He figured he could sit here at least all day without going crazy. If they found anything out, he wasn't going to be the one to tell them. They'd just have to- well, they'd just have to torture him, or something. Use Veritaserum, Legilimency, or the like. He wasn't going to budge. Maybe they'd start breaking his fingers, like he'd seen in Muggle movies. Maybe there'd be some big brute of a guy coming in a few minutes to bust his kneecaps.
Not that he was worried about it, or anything. He could take it. He was a big guy, himself.
He sprang up and began to pace. Check the door. Maybe they'd left it unlocked. He stalked over to it, and yanked. Not only did it open, surprisingly, but then he found himself being pushed back into the room by someone he couldn't see.
"Shh!" the person hissed as she shut the door.
"Hermione?" He hissed back. "What're you-"
"Don't make a sound, Ron." Hermione passed him his wand, and he felt the liquid sensation of the Disillusionment charm. "I'll explain later. We need to get Harry; I think he's with the Minister."
She opened the door a crack, looked round. She only saw Tonks heading down towards the far end of the long hall, chuckling. Hermione slipped out, pulling Ron with her. Together they headed for Level Three.
-==-==-==-==-
"Let me help."
Scrimgeour let out a dry laugh. "You've made yourself quite clear, Mr. Potter. I offered you the chance to join me, and you declined, once again."
The Minister thought he saw a flicker of movement on the fringes of his vision, but he dismissed it. No one could get in here; he was sure of it.
"Perhaps you've been starved for attention the past few years," he said idly, steepling his fingers as he took his seat again. "That isn't my concern."
"Yeah, because we all know how much of a publicity-whore I am," Harry said sardonically. "Look, this may be hard for you to accept, but this is actually bigger than you, or me. You need to let me go, so that I can help you. This is important, and we're wasting time."
The older man eyed Harry dispassionately for a few moments, thinking. He'd made a mistake, offering to join forces with Potter. The boy was too unpredictable and a much less malleable sort than he was used to dealing with. But he'd known that.
"The only one wasting time, here, Mr. Potter, is you. You wasted your time coming here, and you are wasting it now thinking I'm going to allow you to leave here without giving me the information I asked for. You may as well make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing to the chair. Harry didn't move.
Come to think of it, Harry hadn't moved, or said anything, for over a minute.
Scrimgeour began to hear a buzzing in his ears. "Mr. Potter."
No answer. He got up, walked around his desk and across the rug, and stood inches away from Harry. Not a flicker, not a blink.
He reached out, and his hands passed right through the image of the young man.
By this time, of course, Harry was too far down the hall to hear the clatter of Scrimgeour's walking stick against the wall.
-==-==-==-==-
Harry sprinted down the hall behind Hermione and Ron. When they dipped into an alcove near the stairs, he was reeling.
"How did you- what was that?" He panted.
Ron was pale. "I can't believe he didn't notice us sneaking in there," he marveled. "You must've really got under his skin, mate."
"That really was close, wasn't it?" Hermione said breathlessly. She looked at Harry. "We only had a second or two, but I sort of- projected an image of you standing there, sort of like a hologram, so that we'd have enough time to get you out without him noticing you. Merlin, I've never done that before." She let out a shaky breath.
Harry looked at her. "You- you're brilliant."
"That's what I always said." Ron moved a hand over his face, chuckling weakly with relief.
Hermione's eyes met Harry's. They didn't have anywhere near enough time to go into this, she knew.
"We need to move" was all she said as she peeked out from the alcove to check if the coast was clear.
Ron led them towards the employee exit, and as they reached the eerily quiet street outside, Harry turned to them.
"We need to go to the orphanage, now. Scrimgeour's sent Aurors there to attack. Tonks, and Shacklebolt, and the others. They don't know what they're dealing with, what they're walking into."
Ron looked at Harry. "So that vision, or whatever- that was real?"
"Yeah. Scrimgeour thought it was. He didn't put it in my head, so it must be." Harry avoided Hermione's eyes.
"And if- if it isn't, then this is my fault," he said. "If it's a trap, it was meant for me. I have to do something; I have to try to help. You two can go home if you want, but-"
Hermione cut him off with a sigh. "We're with you, Harry. I don't know what happened to make you forget that." She reached out and grabbed his hand, grabbed Ron's, and looked at Harry expectantly.
"We don't know where this place is, Harry. You're going to have to Apparate us."
Harry met her eyes, and with nothing else to say, he did.
-==-==-==-==-
Shacklebolt had decided to use Portkeys to get his team to the scene. They were transported to a side street behind the building, and he was looking at it now, at the high wrought iron gates. Disuse had vines climbing unchecked over the brick and rusty metal, and the whole place looked deserted. Come to think of it, the entire street was quiet.
Too quiet. He glanced behind him. Tonks was there; a few Aurors were between them. He looked over and proceeded carefully around the perimeter of the building with the rest of his team in tow, and as he tried to enter the back yard, he detected the first ward.
He breached it, and that instant, all hell broke loose.
The first wave of Reductor curses showered on them, obliterating the overgrown hedges and the already crumbly stone plaque in the front of the building.
Tonks dove for cover behind one of the still-intact bushes, fired off a hex. The yard was alive and glowing with shooting spells and through the thick of them, she could see the black-cloaked Death Eaters, all of them masked, of course. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Need a hand?" Remus whispered, and Tonks was ridiculously reassured by the resolute and faintly feral look in his eyes. She couldn't control a reckless grin.
"Who says we don't get out enough?" she returned with a wink, as they headed together into the fray.
Remus covered her as they headed toward the entrance, ducking hexes and sending out their own. They were trying to get closer. "So you do realize that he's likely not here anymore?" he called back to her.
"Yeah, probably not," Tonks agreed. "But we damn sure are."
She barely dodged another Reducto, cringing as it blasted a hole into the ground and dirt flew into her purple hair.
-==-==-==-==-
Inside the building, Draco watched from a safe distance off of the foyer as his fellow Death Eaters fought, and fell. They were losing, he thought idly. It probably wouldn't be long before the Aurors moved into the building. Whatever.
He was more than over this shit. Three years of servitude to Voldemort (as if he'd be afraid to say his name), and for what? All he had to show for it was a tattoo.
And a dead mother. The only one in the world who had loved him without an agenda. That had been the last straw.
He could see his own future if he kept on this track, even if his dear father couldn't.
Old Lucius had always been pathetic. So cool and secure throwing their money around, but ready to piss his pants if the Dark Arsehole even looked at him sideways. Now he'd cooked up some ridiculous plan to lure Potter here into this trap. Now that it had failed, and the Ministry was on his arse, he was running scared. Draco was damned if he would ever end up like that.
And, to Draco's way of thinking, there was only one way to get himself out of this royal mess.
He searched the thinning crowd of his comrades, who were running around in their masks, panicking like decapitated chickens. Idiots. Some of them, he noticed, were already apparating away. If he was going to do this, it should be now. He waited until he recognized his father's long-legged gait before he stepped forward.
"Father." Draco's voice projected over the din as he lifted his Disillusionment charm.
Lucius turned at the sound of his son's voice. "What are you doing here?" He hissed through his mask.
"Thought I'd enjoy the festivities, after all."
Lucius looked around. "You should leave; come with me. I have a place for us to hide, where it will be safe."
Draco's eyes widened. "Concern? Well, Dad, it's nice to hear, even if it is a bit late." He approached his father, backing him up to the front door. "Unfortunately, the days of my following you- or anyone- are over."
Lucius regarded his son with increasing trepidation as he moved closer. "What are you doing, boy?"
"You should actually be thanking me," Draco said nonchalantly. "I'm sure this is preferable to what Voldemort's got planned for you."
Lucius was so startled to hear the Dark Lord's name out of his son's mouth that he barely had time to react as Draco drew his wand, removed his father's mask, and opened the front door in one swift motion.
Before he knew it, he was falling down the short stretch of stairs and onto his back, right at Kingsley Shacklebolt's feet.
-==-==-==-==-
Harry let go of his friends as they popped up on the old-fashioned street that Harry had recalled from Dumbledore's memory. Things were seemingly quiet, both on the street and in front of the old brick building.
"It's likely warded. We need to be careful. By the looks of things at the Ministry, they should already be here."
They approached the building carefully from the side, trying to prevent the people they couldn't yet see from seeing them.
As they creeped into the courtyard and the scene materialized before them, Harry's stomach clenched. It looked as though the fight had been going on for a while, and he couldn't yet tell if the black robed figures on the ground were Aurors or Death Eaters.
He must have frozen for a moment, because the next thing he knew, Ron was clapping him on the back. He pitched forward.
"Harry, look!"
Remus and Tonks were hurrying over to them from around the front of the building. His relief at seeing them whole and relatively safe was palpable.
Hermione approached Tonks. "What's happened? Is it over?"
"It's under control, at this point." Tonks scooped back her hair, dull with dirt, as it fell into her eyes. "Shacklebolt's leading the rest of the team and rounding up the few death eaters who haven't escaped."
"Voldemort's not here. It's doubtful that he ever was," Lupin told them. "The Ministry have regained custody of Lucius Malfoy."
"What?" Harry looked from the bodies on the ground and up at Remus.
"Someone- we believe it was a Death Eater, because we never actually entered the building- practically hand delivered him to them. Perhaps there's some divisiveness within the ranks."
Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.
-==-==-==-==-
They spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the scene and helping tend to the wounded. Harry felt utterly useless and unbearably guilty.
Many of the Death Eaters had escaped, and he was no closer to Voldemort than he'd ever been. Harry was sure that before all this crap with the Ministry, he'd been using the orphanage as headquarters. They'd been so close to him, and now Voldemort might has well be in Siberia.
He hadn't been of any help today, either. By the time his friends had gotten out of the Ministry, the fighting was almost over. At least they were safe, and few on their side had been hurt.
She'd barely spoken to him all day.
Harry watched Hermione on and off (mostly on) for the rest of the evening as they finished up. She was angry, he knew. He'd left her and gone to the Ministry without either of them. He'd lost complete control with Scrimgeour, and his friends had been apprehended because of it. And without Tonks' help, they'd probably still be somewhere within the bowels of the Ministry.
But he couldn't help it. Inexplicably, leaving her home this morning was one thing today that Harry would not have done differently, given the chance.
-==-==-==-==-
When they got home, Hermione entered the parlor ahead of Harry and Ron. She dropped her wand onto the little coffee table, shrugged out of her cloak, and turned around.
"Ronald, could you leave us alone, for a moment?" She was staring at Harry.
'Ronald' was already hustling up the stairs.
Harry watched his best mate until he disappeared around the corner at the landing, before he turned to see Hermione waiting, and watching him. The little wooden coffee table stood between them as they faced each other.
"Hermione…"
She shook her head, held up a finger as Harry fell silent.
"This isn't going to be an issue again." The statement was unqualified.
"I had to do something. I had to find out what he knew, and it's really a good thing I did, otherwise I wouldn't have known Scrimgeour's plans and-"
"And what, Harry? Gotten yourself nearly locked up? Dragged off to St. Mungos in a Full-Body-Bind? What?"
"Look, I didn't mean to scare you."
"Oh, just a happy accident, then." Hermione stopped herself. That wasn't really what she was angry about. Harry had gone off half-cocked like this many a time. But she was infuriated that he hadn't said anything to her. And the thought of how much worse things could have been today…
"I don't suppose it occurred to you to wake me up."
It hadn't, not for a moment. "Hermione, I did what I thought I had to do."
"You always do," Hermione said thoughtfully. "You always do, Harry. But when are you going to realize that you aren't the only one who has to do this?"
Harry sighed. "I'm sorry that I didn't wake you this morning. It's just, you-"
Hermione cut him off, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "Harry, if you're going to tell me how peaceful I looked and how you didn't want to disturb me, you can stop right there."
She skirted the table and got closer to him. "How can I make you get that it's not okay for me to sleep untroubled when you put yourself in danger? If you think that I could stand by and- just hope you make it back in one piece, then you don't understand how much I love you."
Moved, Harry reached for her now, but she backed up. "I love you, too, Hermione. So much. That's why I don't want to keep putting you in danger, when this is my responsibility. Especially now." Harry sighed. "You and Ron have been with me from the start, and it means more to me than I can say. But we always knew that it had to be me in the end." He turned from her now.
Hermione looked up sharply. "So- what? 'Thanks for the help, but I'll take it from here' ? Fuck that, Harry." She stepped toward him.
"I'm putting it like this. You don't get to shag me senseless, then roll out of bed in the morning to go handle 'man stuff'. And if that's what you think, then this isn't going to work! "
"That's not what this is about, Hermione! " Harry shouted as he turned back around to face her. "I can't do what I'm supposed to do when I'm worrying about you! "
"Do you think it's any easier for me? " Hermione shot back. "You think it isn't hard for me to watch you risk your life?
"When I woke up this morning and you were gone-" she broke off, her voice breaking. Harry nearly went to his knees.
"Sometimes, Harry, I can't think for worrying over you. You'll get one of your ideas, and I can't think past wanting to lock you up in this house and never let you leave. But I wouldn't dream of stopping you. W-well, I would, I have, plenty of times, but I wouldn't actually do it.
"I know this is what you need to do. What you have to understand is that what I need is to be able to stand with you in this. All of this."
Harry lowered himself to the arm of the couch, sighing. "I want you with me, Hermione. You know I do. But if I lose you…then none of it means anything."
Hermione went to him, now. She reached up and touched his face, waited until his eyes met hers. "I understand that, Harry. I do. But my heart…my sanity, can't handle another morning like I had today. Alright? " She threaded her hands through his hair as she laid her forehead on his. "I need you to promise me."
She touched her lips to the spot just behind his jaw line. Harry's hands came up now, and he took her by the waist, pulled her onto his lap. She shook against him, and clung tightly. The stress and the fear she'd been holding in all day, only thinly veiled by her anger, was coming loose now. Harry only held her, riding out his own storm of emotions.
When they came apart, Hermione touched her lips to his. "I didn't mean to lose it on you, earlier," she murmured.
"Yeah, well. I deserved it."
"Yes, you did," Hermione agreed. Harry chuckled. He breathed in her scent as one of his hands moved up, the other, down. Hermione shivered.
"What if I'm still angry with you? " she whispered.
"Well, then, you should punish me." Harry began to undo the buttons on her blouse, his hands seeking warm, flushed skin.
"Maybe I will…" Hermione began to suck on Harry's throat. He groaned, and let her start to push him backward onto the couch.
"Well, that's telling him, Hermione," Ron commented as he walked in. They sprang apart.
"Erm. Ron-"
"Guys, don't bother explaining," Ron said in the would-be casual tone he'd adopted over the last few days. "I wouldn't have interrupted, only I thought you should know. Draco Malfoy's outside on the street."
A/N- Thanks for reading. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but you know I won't make you wait too long. By the way, I was looking at the author's note for Chapter 3, and damn. I didn't mean for it to be so long, guys. ^_^'
With that said, I hope you enjoyed this one, and I do hope you come back for Chapter 5- Cohesive Forces. (I'll follow through on the tease, don't worry. Lol.)
Thanks to everyone for your support.
Cheers,
Heather